


Keep On Keeping On

by Rheila



Series: Life as We Know It / Keep on Keeping on [2]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:17:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheila/pseuds/Rheila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when things were starting to come together between River and Daryl, everything fell apart around them. Separated after a herd of Walkers attacked Hershel's farm, can they find each other again? Season 3. Read as a stand alone or as a sequel to Life as We Know It.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keep on Keepin' on

**Author's Note:**

> Although technically a sequel to "Life As We Know It" I am treating this as a stand alone also so no need to read the previous story. As time goes on I'll be reintroducing my OC and her relationship with Daryl and the others in the group. It gives me a chance to clean up all the things I felt I could have done better with the last story. A few small details may change, but I do plan to keep the backstory mostly the same as it happened in the previous story.
> 
> It looks like they may be doing a Carol x Daryl pairing in season 3. While I may acknowledge some aspects of it (hard to tell where they'll take it as of yet) this will ALWAYS remain a Daryl x OC story even if that means changing some things from the show.

 

Survival. It's not just a word. Not just something you try to do. It's a very basic instinct buried somewhere deep inside each species' genetic makeup. Despite whatever hardships they face and despite the odds every species has an innate drive to survive. In the Antarctic penguins will spend months huddled together in the most bitterly cold and unforgiving habitat on the planet. With no food the penguins struggle simply not to freeze to death until the season changes and they can again trek across the continent in search of food.

Humans may have been unique in that they were the only species that would think:  _this just isn't worth it_. After the Wildfire outbreak had hit bad there had been a rash of people who had, as Dr. Jenner had aptly put it, opted out. During the months that followed the thought had crossed the mind of most everyone who was left at some time or another. Darwin would have looked at what was happening as an event that would shape the future of the species. Only those people that still possessed that increasingly rarer gene that drove them to press on no matter what would be left in the end.

One of those people would be Autumn River Thompson. Giving up just wasn't in her nature. River and her Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Liam, would keep on running. No matter the odds they would keep on keeping on. Life didn't end just because bad shit happened. They had to press on. All the little cliches and mantras she'd had drilled into her ran through her head.

Besides, River didn't just have something she was running from. Sure the Walkers were close on her heels. That was nothing new. What she had was something to run to. Daryl Dixon was out there waiting for her.

It had been a long and rocky road between River and Daryl. Just when things were starting to come together between them, it had fallen apart all around them. River made one of the hardest choices she'd had to make in her life and left the man she'd come to love. Now all she could do was trust that she'd be able to find him again.

Right now though River needed to escape with her life. Behind her the farm burned. An inferno lighting up the black night sky. A herd of Walkers hundreds strong stumbled across the farm and into the woods. All she had was her rifle and a pocket full of ammunition, her legs to carry her away and her dog to fight by her side. The odds were definitely stacked against her.

To make matters worse River was getting tired. They'd been running for a long time, her and Liam. Still the undead pursued them relentlessly. If they didn't manage to break away from them soon it would be too late. No matter how driven she was to survive, eventually their bodies would just give out... And the dead didn't get tired.

Two Walkers stumbled out in front of the fleeing duo. Their rotting jaws gnashing hungrily at the sight of a warm, fleshy meal. River glanced behind her. The dead were still coming. They couldn't turn back. The only hope her and Liam had was to push through the risen corpses in front of them. There were only two, she reminded herself. Two were manageable.

Hastily River loaded the magazine into her rifle. Her trusted .308 had served her well. With it she'd taken down her fair share of big game and Walkers alike. Tucking the butt into her shoulder she took aim at the first Walker and fired. She missed.

"Bastard," River cursed as she cycled the action loading another round. Her muscles were exhausted and she was shaky. Shooting was a lot more difficult than it ought to be.

The next two shots that River fired connected and the two Walkers blocking their way crumpled to the ground. Anxiously she glanced behind her. The dead kept coming. Her and Liam couldn't keep running forever.

River glanced up. The tree branches above could provide her an out. They would be a safe haven for her, allowing the horde to pass unaware below. Except that Liam couldn't climb and the Chessie weighed a good ninety pounds. River was strong, but she couldn't pack the muscular dog up the tree.

"C'mon buddy," River called, patting her left leg for Liam to follow. It was no choice at all. They had to keep running.

Soon River's lungs began to burn. Though she gulped the air greedily she never seemed to be getting enough. Stitches formed in her side, causing her to double over in pain.

"Hang on Liam," River panted as she tried to catch her breath. Behind her the dead were gaining ground. If they caught up all the running would have been for nothing. Not only would they be back where they started, River wouldn't have the energy to fight them off.

River ejected the magazine from her rifle and reloaded it. Replacing it she took aim and dropped the four closest Walkers. The herd kept coming. River gulped nervously and reached into her pocket for more ammunition. There were only two rounds left. One for each of us if it came to that, River thought morbidly as she looked at her dog.

The last words Daryl had spoken to River came back to her.  _"Whatever happens ya keep on keepin' on. Ya hear me?"_

"We gotta keep moving," River told her canine companion. Though really the words were meant more for herself.

The darkness that had fallen over the forest was becoming impenetrable. River was stumbling blindly through the brush. Often all she had to follow was the sound of Liam crashing along in front of her.

One misplaced step sent the young woman tumbling down a bank. The bottom met her abruptly sending a searing pain through her left calf. At first River feared she'd broken her leg. Out here on her own that would be a death sentence. Groping in the darkness she felt the brach that had stabbed through the muscle.

"Help me up," River commanded after breaking off the branch. She didn't remove it from her leg for fear of bleeding to death. It could wait until morning or when she met back up with the others. Liam stood next to his master. His feet planted firmly in the soft earth as River used his sturdy, muscular shoulders to pull herself to her feet.

Though she could no longer see the Walkers that pursued them, she could still hear them in the trees behind her. If they didn't find somewhere safe to hide soon they'd end up Walker chow. Things were looking pretty hopeless, but the woman hobbled painfully along with her dog in a desperate struggle to survive and reconnect with the man she loved.

* * *

**Seven months later...**

Rick and Daryl stalked side by side through the woods. At first when Daryl had taken him hunting the man had wanted to spend the whole time chatting. It was no wonder they'd never come back with any game. Now though Rick had learned to keep quiet and to muffle his steps. He could make his way through the woods making hardly a sound.

Without a word Daryl stopped abruptly. Holding a hand up he signaled for Rick to stop. Daryl bent down and examined the ground. Finally Rick couldn't stand still any longer. Walking up next to the tracker he looked down at the ground and asked, "What is it?"

Daryl looked up. "River," he said in disbelief.

Rick winced at the name. He knew how much the woman had meant to Daryl. They had connected in a way that most never got to experience. When River didn't show up on the highway with the rest of the group that had fled Hershel's farm it had been near impossible to convince Daryl to keep moving.

Rick tried hard to find a way to break the news. After what had happened with Sophia he had figured Daryl wouldn't have been so ready to hold on to the belief that the woman could still be alive out there. The redneck was, after all, a man of pragmatism and action, not prone to hoping and prayin for the unlikely. In this case, the near impossible.

"Daryl look," Rick said with a deep sadness in his voice. "It's been seven months. Those track's could be anyone's. They could be a Walker's."

Anger flashed in Daryl's icy blue eyes. "It's River," he growled.

"How can you be so sure after so long?"

Daryl pointed to a set of tracks running alongside the one's he'd been examining. "Cause that's her mutt."

* * *

There was a clearing up ahead. River could see the sunlight shining through the trees. Cautiously she limped along with Liam at her side. Neither of them moved very quickly anymore and both had grown more weary. The winter had been a long and hard one for the pair.

As they stepped out into the clearing a large structure came into view. It was surrounded by high fences and guard towers. Before the world had ended it had been a prison. Scanning the grounds River could see easily that it had fallen when the Wildfire outbreak had occurred, just like every other corner of the world. The fact that the former inmates still roamed the grounds didn't fool her. It belonged to the dead now.

"It's not safe here," River told her companion. Surely Liam could smell the dead and recognized the threat below them. However the woman hadn't had anyone to talk to in a long, long time. The bulk of her conversations were held with her dog now. The remainder were with herself.

The two of them continued on, looking for some place safe to spend the night. In the morning River and the dog would keep on moving. If for no other reason than she no longer knew what else to do. She just kept on keeping on. With no real hope left of reconnecting with the others, of finding Daryl again, all she could chock it up to was habit and that innate drive to survive.

Liam's ears perked up. River stopped and looked, dreading the the thought of having to fight off more Walkers. What little energy she had left had been sapped by their journey. Instead she saw a little squirrel poke it's head around the side of a tree. The critter chattered angrily at the intruders.

At the sight of the animal River's heartbeat quickened. It wasn't much, but it was a meal. She licked her lips and pulled out the slingshot she had raided from an abandoned house. Loading a small rock and pulling back on the rubber band she took aim. It hadn't been as easy to figure out as a rifle, but over the winter she'd got plenty of practice. It paid off. The shot connected and the squirrel fell to the ground.

There was a grumble in River's stomach as she smelled the roasting meat. Days had passed since she'd last eaten. Going without had become so common place as her and Liam struggled just to stay out of reach of the dead that she no longer bothered counting the days.

The little squirrel had barely come off the fire and River was peeling the flesh from it's bones. A little too hasty to get at the food she burned her fingers on the hot meat. As she licked her burnt fingers she looked to Liam. The dog was staring at her expectantly waiting to be fed. Watching the meat in his master's hands intently, Liam whimpered and whined.

The sound broke River's heart. That dog meant the world to her. He'd been her friend, offering her unconditional love through the last five years. He was her companion, her watch dog, her hunting partner, and her trapline helper.

Before the Wildfire outbreak there had been two others with whom she shared her life. The Jackson brothers, Dane and Jason. Both were dead now. Honoring a pact that the trio had made River had had her hand on the weapon that ended Jason's life after he'd been bit by one of the herd on the highway. His older brother Dane, her best friend and surrogate big brother, had died defending the group at Hershel's farm as they tried to escape. Liam was all she had left.

That's not true, you have Daryl, River told herself. If he was even still alive. Surely if anyone had survived from the group she'd banded together with back at the quarry and later at the farm, it would have been Daryl.

_"Ya got me, don'tcha?"_  Daryl's voice rang through her head as if her were standing right next to her.

Liam whimpered louder bringing River back to the present. It was a pathetic, pitiful sound. His amber eyes stared sadly at her. Tears welled up in River's eyes and she wrapped her arms around the animal's neck.

"I'm sorry Liam. I'm so sorry," River sobbed.

At least she could understand why there was always hunger in her belly. All the dog knew was that his master wasn't feeding him when he wanted food. That he was always hungry. The once beautiful dog was as skinny as his master. River could see every rib in his once muscular body. His brown coat was no longer thick and shiny. The dog looked sickly.

Slowly but surely they were both starving to death. The odd squirrel or bird that River managed to snag was never enough. Was it cruel of her to drag him along with her, she wondered. Reaching into her pocket she felt the smooth surface of the last two rounds of ammunition she'd been packing around for the last seven months. One for Liam, and one for her, just in case. She could choose to go on through this hell, but maybe it would be kinder to end his suffering, she thought.

* * *

The tracks led out into a clearing. Rick and Daryl stood staring at a prison. A smile spread across Rick's face. A plan was forming in his head. Those walls still held the former inmates. From where they stood, everything seemed relatively intact. Maybe if the fences could keep the dead inmates in, then they could also keep the rest of the Walkers out.

"We need to take that Prison," Rick told the man he'd been hunting with.

Daryl nodded. There was an understanding between him and Rick. The former deputy had earned his respect as they fought side by side to survive. Likewise the redneck hunter had earned Rick's respect in the way that he provided for and protected the group with fierce loyalty.

"We take the prison, then I'mma go find River," Daryl responded gruffly. There was no room in his tone for argument.

"After we're safe inside those walls I'll help you look myself," Rick promised even though he felt certain they would never find River alive. It had been too long. No one could survive that long on their own out there. Still, he felt like he owed the man that much.

Again Daryl nodded. "Best git the others," he said, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.

There was a hard pit in Daryl's stomach as they turned and headed back to the group. Those were River's tracks, he was sure of it. More sure than he'd ever been of anything in his life. Still, the tracks could be days old. Rushing off after them without a safe place to stay would be foolish. If River had survived this long, she could survive another night. That girl was as tough as nails. Tomorrow Daryl would go out and find her. Then he'd bring back the only woman he'd ever loved.


	2. Voices on the Wind

 

It hadn't been easy. From the moment that River and Liam had fled the farm life had been difficult. Far more difficult than she'd ever given it credit for before. What had started out as a camping trip to wait out the crazies fleeing the cities in droves had turned into a nightmare. But even when things had been at their worst, she'd never been alone. Now her and Liam were on their own and they were barely hanging on.

A tear rolled down River's cheek as she thought of her friends, both old and new. Dane and Jason had been her best friends and the closest thing she'd had to family for over a decade. Both her parents had died in a car crash leaving her with no one and in the hands of an abusive foster family. After the horrors she had endured, Dane had taught her how to live again. He'd taught her how to trust and the healing power that unconditional love could provide. Most importantly he'd instilled in her the belief that, no matter what bad shit happened, life went on.

And a lot of bad shit had happened. A lot of other people had died. People River hadn't known long, but under the circumstances had quickly come to care about. Amy, Jacqui, Jim... Sophia and Dale. Others she wondered about. It had been a long time and for all she knew any of them might be dead... or worse. Mostly though, River wondered about Daryl. Something in her gut told her that if anyone was still it would be Daryl Dixon.

Since River and Liam had left the farm she had fallen and injured her leg. The infection left her lame and struggling. It was difficult for the two of them. Every day for the last seven months they had been cold, hungry and exhausted. Even now that the weather had improved River would often find herself shivering. With no fat left on her body and visibly underweight, she was constantly chilled to the bone and found it hard to ever get or stay warm.

A skilled woodsman, River had always prided herself on her ability to live off the land. However the bitter reality of it was that without her traps and ammunition for her rifle she was lost. At first, she'd tried to stay put. River had fashioned crude traps such as had been used before man had learned to forge metal. While they had worked with some success it had proved too dangerous to stay in any one place for very long. The human species was never meant to be alone.

That left River with a slingshot that she had scavenged. With it she was capable of taking out small animals such as squirrel, just like the one she was holding in her hands now. The squirrel had little meat on it. Not enough to feed her and Liam both. In the end River gave it to her dog. Liam needed her and she needed him. He was her eyes and ears while she slept. He kept her company to stop her going mad. The truth of it was, that dog gave her one more reason to survive.

Liam was devouring the puny meal when he paused. His ears perked up for just a moment before he tore back into the meat. "What is it, buddy?" River asked as she strained to hear for herself whatever it was that had caught the dog's attention.

The sound was so faint that River nearly wrote it off as the wind rustling through the trees. But it wasn't just the wind. That sound was unmistakable. It was a vehicle. Somewhere off in the distance someone was driving a car. River's heart skipped a beat before she had sense enough to scold herself. It was foolish to think that it was the same group with whom she'd travelled for months. It was foolish to think that it might be Daryl.

"Liam, c'mon," River called to her dog. Each hastened step caused sharp pain to shoot through her left leg. Later she would surely regret pushing herself so hard to make higher ground, but at the moment all she cared about was that someone else was out there. For all her effort, all that she managed to catch was a glimpse of the tail end of a truck disappearing around a bend.

"Hey! Hey wait!" River screamed at the top of her lungs. "Please come back!" They didn't hear her and kept on driving. With a heavy sigh River sank back and stared longingly at the empty road. There was no way that her and Liam could catch up with the vehicles. Once again they were on their own.

* * *

A promise had been made when Daryl had agreed to help Rick take the prison. Rick held up his end of the bargain and went out to help his new right hand man look for the girl. For River, who had once been a member of their group. There was still a lot to be done in their new home, but Rick made the time. He was a man of his word.

Even with both sets of eyes scouring the ground they turned up empty handed. Of course, Rick wasn't a skilled tracker like Daryl, but the man had learned a lot on their hunting trips over the winter.

"River!" Daryl shouted in frustration. "Ya out 'ere?"

"We'll find her," Rick said calmly. He laid a hand encouragingly on Daryl's shoulder. It was an automatic gesture between friends.

"Git yer hands off'a me!" Daryl snarled as he angrily swatted Rick's hand away.

There was no reason to provoke the man and risk getting a fist to the jaw. Rick took a cautious step back. "She's out there. She's alive. You said that yourself," he reminded Daryl. "We'll find her. We'll find River."

There was a sharp movement as Daryl quickly averted his gaze and started chewing furiously on his thumbnail. Rick caught a glimpse of something in the man's eyes. Was it tears he was hiding? Something softened in Rick. The last time he'd seen Daryl react in such a way he'd just told him that he had left Merle handcuffed to a rooftop in Atlanta. The man was hurting, but there was something more than that bothering him.

"What is it?" Rick asked.

Daryl grimaced. When he spoke his voice was quiet and unusually vulnerable. "She's hurt."

"How can you know that?"

Without a word Daryl backtracked to where they had followed the trail before it had gone cold. Rick followed. "Here," Daryl pointed to a set of tracks.

"What am I looking for?" Rick asked seeing the tracks but not sure what to make of them. He couldn't read them the same way that the expert hunter could.

"These ones 'ere is closer t'gether 'an these ones," Daryl explained. "That means she's limping. Gone an' hurt her left leg somehow."

The pain in Daryl's face was unmistakable. Rick's eyes softened. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Daryl grimaced at the question and looked away from Rick. "What difference would it'a made?" He replied gruffly. His face had gone hard and his body language became stiff. The walls that Daryl kept up around himself were once again back in place. Any moment of vulnerability had disappeared.

It was getting late. There was no use in continuing to beat the bush. Daryl couldn't track the woman in the dark. Abruptly he turned and stormed off in the direction of the prison. Rick followed, treading lightly in the redneck's wake.

As the two men approached Lori rushed over to the fence line. Rick was already shaking his head in warning but the words spilled from her mouth anyways. "Did you find her?" Lori asked.

"Does it look like we found her?" Daryl snarled. He didn't mean to take it out on her. It wasn't like it was Lori's fault River was missing or that he hadn't found her yet. He just wished people wouldn't ask such stupid questions. He wished they'd give him some space.

* * *

In the morning River gathered her things and stuffed them into the small backpack she'd picked up along the way. "Time to keep on moving," she told her dog. He refused to get up. "Liam, c'mon," River pushed, patting her leg for him to follow.

Liam laid his head down on his big paws and whined. There was a deep sadness in his amber eyes as he stared up at her. Still the dog did not make any move to get up and follow.

River sighed and dropped her pack. "Alright then," she relented. Aside from the Walkers in the prison yard she hadn't seen any other dead roaming about. "I suppose we can rest here a couple of days." Deep down River knew that it was unlikely that Liam would ever leave this place again.

As River slowly setup camp she swore she could hear voices in the distance. It was impossible to make out the direction. Heck, she couldn't even be sure that the faint noise she'd heard was voices. Most likely it was just her imagination. Up until she'd seen the car the day before River had accepted her fate... Living out the rest of her days in the woods on the run. Now though, she longed more than ever to reunite with the others.

"Are you still out there, Daryl?" River asked the wind. "Are you somewhere safe?"

* * *

The prison had been a godsend for the weary group of survivors. After spending the winter continuously on the run those walls had looked like the gates to heaven. For the first time since they had left the farm Rick and his band of survivors had a place to rest. A place they could fortify and bunker down. A place to call home where they could start to rebuild their lives.

The old exercise yard could be turned into garden. The cell blocks could be cleared out one at a time giving them enough room that everyone could have their own space. At one time the human race had cherished their freedom. Being stuck behind those walls was a punishment for thieves and murderers. Now it was the dead that roamed free, and those same walls they had once feared and avoided were now a gift to be cherished.

It was Daryl's turn on watch. He sulked miserably as he did his rounds checking the integrity of the fences before heading up the watch tower. His eyes strained out into the darkness hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. A shape. A figure standing at a distance looking back at him. It wasn't Walkers he was looking for, but River.

Carol was up in the guard tower. They'd dragged a chair up to the top. That's where she sat with a rifle resting across her lap as she scanned the perimeter. More and more she was taking an active role in protecting the group. Both her aim and confidence had improved dramatically leaving her a valued and contributing member.

When Carol saw that it was Daryl who was coming to relieve her she offered him a small sympathetic smile. Daryl swallowed his anger and gave the woman a small nod. The two of them didn't need to exchange words to understand one another. A bond had formed when Sophia had been missing. Carol could see in his every move the fear of failure. The fear of losing someone else.

Once Carol had left Daryl sat his crossbow down, leaning it against the wall. Instead of sitting, he paced from one side to the other, his eyes glued to the area outside the prison walls. They were always scanning. He was angry with himself for having not found River when he'd gone out to search with Rick.

When T-Dog came in the wee hours of the morning to relieve him Daryl refused to leave. "I got this," Daryl growled.

"Man ya need to sleep," T-Dog told him. "This is crazy."

Daryl glowered at him. "Said I got it, didn't I? Ya deaf or sumthin?"

"Yeah and you think I want your sleep-deprived, cracker ass watching my back?"

There was anger burning in Daryl's piercing blue eyes as he stared the man down. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to maintain his self control and not strike out. T-Dog stood his ground and waited him out.

"Whatever," Daryl grumbled as he stalked off towards the stairs.

Back in the cell block everyone was still asleep. Daryl moved with the silent skill of a hunter. The last thing he wanted was to wake someone and be met with their sad looks and pity. Up in the crows nest he let himself fall back onto his mattress, not even bothering to change out of his grubby clothes. Staring up at the ceiling Daryl thought about River. He wondered if she was still close by. Wondered if she had found somewhere safe out there in the dark.

* * *

When River woke it was to a welcome sight of spring. Poking up thorough the matted leaves and dirt were the young shoots of the bracken fern. It was a plant she recognized from her home back near Fort Nelso in British Columbia. The fern was hardy and widespread. Smiling to herself she wandered peacefully through the woods and picked the tender fiddleheads, brushing away the papery brown skin. Her and Liam would eat. It was a good day.

The protective Chesapeake Bay Retriever wouldn't let River out of his sight. Too tired and weak to follow faithfully at her side he would lay and watch as she covered an area. When his master got too far Liam would pull his weary body off the ground and move a little ways to where he could watch over her again. River would glance up, catching sight of her companion and her heart would break each time. Seeing Liam's suffering was far more difficult than dealing with her own hunger and deteriorating health.

Every now and then River thought she heard whispers on the wind. "This is it, buddy," she told Liam, shaking her head as if she could somehow dislodge the sound from her ears. "I'm finally losing it." Only she saw the dog's ears perk up and his head turn too. It wasn't her voice Liam was responding to. River wasn't going crazy. He heard them too... The voices on the wind.

With a fevered urgency River quickly bundled the fiddleheads she'd gathered and stuffed them into her pack. Making her way back to her dog she crouched down next to Liam and gently stroked him behind his ears. "What do you say old friend?" River cooed into his ear. "Do you have one more journey in you?" The simple truth was that they couldn't keep on alone anymore. They needed the security and stability of a group.

* * *

It was inevitable that once Daryl had found River's tracks he would eventually find her camp. It had taken a few days, but there it was in front of them. Empty. River was already gone. Daryl cursed himself for finding it to late and kicked at the dirt in frustration and bitter disappointment.

There were tracks leading in and out all over the place. All day Daryl and Rick followed set after set. None of them led anywhere. They weaved out through the woods as she had searched for food then returned to camp.

"Must'a been here a few days at least," Daryl told Rick.

"Do you think she'll come back?"

It was a valid question. Daryl chewed at his thumbnail as he looked around and studied the camp. "None of her shit's 'ere. We checked the woods. Ain't likely she's gonna be back."

That had been the same suspicion Rick had felt as he looked at the empty camp. He frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. It was getting close to dark. "Why don't we wait here?" It was a long shot, but if River was returning to her camp she'd need to be back before dark. They'd give her as long as they could. If not, at least they had a place to start again tomorrow.

* * *

The forest floor was covered with matted leaves that had fallen as fall had turned to winter. River tripped in a concealed dip, sending herself stumbling painfully to the ground. Instinctively she reached out to her injured leg trying to dull the sharp, piercing pain that went stabbing through it.

Liam came to her side and stood as he had so many times before since River had injured herself. Reaching up she found his shoulders. They were no longer muscular and powerful. Instead she felt the sharp, pointy edges of bone as she struggled to pull herself up. There was a pause and a tremor in the dog's stance before he collapsed, sending them both back to the ground.

"Oh Liam..."

The dog lay on his side, panting heavily. His sad amber eyes looked into River's and whimpered, sending waves of guilt through her. She was supposed to take care of him. It was her job to protect him.

"You don't have to get up," River told him as Liam struggled to stand. "Shh..." Still the dog stood. His joints were stiff and his muscles weak, but Liam was ready to follow his master. Somehow he must have sensed the desperation with which they were pushing on.

Tears welled in River's eyes. "That's a good dog," she told him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur. This would be his last journey, she knew that, but they had to try. So long as they had life left in them, they had to keep on keeping on. All River could do was the hope that whatever they found at the end of their trek would be better than where they were now. Then again, how could it possibly be any worse?

 


	3. End of the Road

 

It had been a long shot waiting at River's camp for her to return. Nonetheless Rick and Daryl had given her until nearly dark, leaving themselves only just enough time to get back to the prison. There had been dozens of tracks, both her and Liam's scattered across the forest floor in every direction. The two of them had been holed up there for at least a couple of days. It was the closest Daryl had come to finding her, and given that he'd wasted a day following dead ends, the best chance he currently had. Except River never showed up. Once again she was gone.

Following yet another unsuccessful day of searching Daryl returned to the prison in a foul mood. Everyone waited for a sign from Rick before approaching Daryl after his previous outburst at Carol. He shook his head warning as the frustrated redneck stormed wordlessly past everyone up to the crow's nest in their cell block.

A single thought ate away at Daryl. He'd failed her. River had needed him, she was out there hurt and alone, and he'd failed her. Overwhelmed by anger and frustration Daryl pounded his fists against the wall. The hard concrete stung as his flesh struck it again and again. The physical sensation took away some of the emotional hurt he wasn't used to feeling.

Tears welled up in Daryl's eyes. He brushed them briskly away with the back of his wrist. Like hell he was going to cry. Not here. Not now. Even with no one to see him it was one of the lessons that had been beaten into him that stuck. Real men didn't cry.

* * *

The following day Carol knelt on the hard-packed and dusty ground of the prison yard. The warm afternoon sun caressed her skin. It felt good to be outside and able to stop for a moment to enjoy something so simple. Then her eyes fell once more to the corpse laid out before her. The simplicity melted away leaving a hard pit in Carol's stomach.

Some time ago that corpse had been a person. She had had a job, people she cared about, people who cared about her. She had had hopes, dreams, fears. She was someone. Now it was just another Walker. A nameless corpse put down without a moment of remorse for no reason other than so that Carol could practice a risky procedure that most likely wouldn't even work.

Glancing up from her practice cadaver Carol caught sight of some movement out in the distance. "Hey Glenn!" she called.

The young man was occupied driving a stake through the fence into the skulls of the small group of Walkers that had gathered. They were always gathering on the fence line. It was important to keep on top of dealing with them so there didn't get to be too many.

Glenn turned to Carol and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. "What is it?"

"Heads up!" Carol pointed to a lone Walker stumbling slowly towards the prison. "Here comes another one."

Glenn sighed and dabbed away the beads of sweat that were forming on his brow. "There's just no end to these geeks," he complained.

Carol nodded in agreement. "Good thing we've got these fences."

"Yeah," Glenn muttered.

The word fell on deaf ears. Carol's focus had returned solely to the Walker corpse her and Glenn had pulled through the fence. It seemed in a way wrong, what she was doing. Yet it was necessary for Lori's sake and the sake of the baby. Tentatively Carol lifted up the tattered, dirty dress and exposed the skin underneath. The Walker was wasted away, it's hip bones protruding sharply through the taut, cracking skin.

"Hey Carol..." Glenn called out softly. He was unable to pull his eyes away from something in the distance.

There was an intensity to her concentration as Carol studied the Walker laid out in front of her. With a trembling hand she brought the knife to it's dead flesh, before she chickened out and pulled away. In her mind she was picturing the corpse as Lori. The fear of making the wrong cut and killing the baby was paralyzing.

"Carol!" Glenn called out again. He was shouting now and rushing quickly towards the older woman.

Carol's head snapped up. "What is it Glenn?"

"I think it's a live one," Glenn told her as he pointed off into the distance. "What do we do?"

Her eyes narrowed into slits as Carol peered at the figure stumbling slowly towards them. "It's just another Walker," she told Glenn. "Wait until it gets to the fence and then put it down like the others."

The lone figure continued to limp steadily towards them. Glenn squinted and asked "Are you sure?" Something seemed off. Something told him that the ragged looking creature was still alive.

"It's just a Walker, Glenn."

Glenn dropped his arms to his side and waited at the fence. He was turning the stake over and over in his hand when he saw it. There was another figure trailing twenty yards or so behind the first. It wasn't a brown, four-legged creature hardly resembled the dog he'd once known, but it had to be... It was Liam.

"Carol!"

Startled by the noise Carol slipped and messed up her cut. With a sigh she looked up. She was just about to open her mouth to reprimand Glenn when she saw the pair of green eyes staring at her through the fence.

"Oh my God, Glenn go get Rick!" Carol gasped in disbelief.

"Where's Andrea?" River asked in a voice that was hoarse from disuse. The young woman was unaware that the trigger-happy blonde had also been missing for the past seven months. "Tell her not to shoot!" River said as she offered Glenn and Carol a weak smile.

Once River was safely inside the prison fence Glenn rushed off to inform Rick. Carol took her time escorting her through the prison yard and into cell block C. River was limping badly on her left leg. Carol pressed her lips together forming a thin line.

"Your leg..."

River glanced back at the older woman. "Eh?"

"Were you bit?" Carol asked timidly.

River shook her head and pulled up the leg of her jeans so Carol could see that it wasn't a bite wound. However the yellowed pus of infection caused the older woman to let out a little gasp.

"How long has it been like that?"

River shrugged. "A long time," she answered. Too long, she thought. However she'd survived this long, keeping it in check even if she wasn't able to rid the wound of infection entirely.

"You should let me take a look at that later," Carol insisted.

River's looked at Carol. "Hershel?" she asked with a certain sadness to her voice.

"He...he was bit," Carol regretfully informed her. "Rick he... He amputated his leg." River's eyes widened with shock. "We still don't know if he'll make it."

"But he was bit," River protested. "I don't understand."

When Rick had imparted the information that they were all infected River hadn't been there. Carol frowned, her eyes softening sympathetically at the young woman. "I'll let Rick explain later," she told her. "For now let's just get you inside."

After seven months on the run with no one for company but her dog it was hard for River to believe that she'd once again found the other survivors. With a degree of skepticism she looked around examining her new surroundings as if she couldn't believe her eyes. There was relief to be felt but also trepidation. As they drew nearer the prison itself she felt the walls closing in on her.

That sense of being trapped only intensified once Carol brought her inside the cell block. River wrapped her arms protectively around herself and looked to Liam. The dog was tired and starving. He needed this. She needed it.

"Miss me?" River asked, forcing a smile as she came face to face with the rest of the survivors.

There was a great sense of relief being reunited with the other survivors. River had missed them. Maybe she missed one of them more so than the others. Her green eyes scanned quickly looking for one familiar face in particular. Fear gripped River's heart when she couldn't find his icy blue eyes. Then finally Daryl Dixon stepped out from around a corner and River let out a little sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.

Unlike River, Daryl didn't relax. As his eyes fell on the woman he'd lost his stance stiffened. So much about her was unrecognizable. Where normally her brown hair would hang in a pair of braids there was instead a matted and tangled rat's nest. Those green eyes, once so full of life, were dull and sunken. Draped over her was a hodgepodge of animal skins that she had gathered and sewn together over the past seven months. Her only possessions were a small pack and her rifle.

"Ya look like ya come straight from the Ozarks or sumthin'," Daryl choked out in a gruff voice. He was afraid if he told her how much he'd missed her he'd fall apart again.

"Right, because look at you with your poncho," River retorted. "You're just the king of fashion."

From one of the cells Maggie emerged and walked over with a smile on her face. She whispered something in Carol's ear before going to Glenn and wrapping her arms around his neck. The two love birds relaxed into each other. A smile spread across Glenn's face as he buried his head into his woman's shoulder.

"It looks like we've been blessed with two miracles in one day," Carol said.

Carol's gaze shifted from River to one of the cell Maggie had come out of. Hershel was sitting up in the bed. From beneath the sheets poked out his stump of a leg poking. His youngest daughter Beth sat next to him. She was chattering happily with his hand in hers. They had come so close to losing him.

Meanwhile Daryl and River continued to stand there frozen in place. Daryl swallowed uncomfortably. His lips were pressed firmly together forming a tight line. Last time he had seen River she had been a healthy, curvy creature. Now all Daryl could think was that the woman looked so fragile that she might break if he touched her.

River could feel her heart pounding inside her chest. All this time, all the months she'd been on her own, she'd wanted nothing more than to be with Daryl again. All she had hoped for was that he had been somewhere safe and that he was alright. Now here he was, standing in front of her. River couldn't bear it a moment longer. She ran over to Daryl and threw herself into his powerful arms.

Although Daryl took the thin and fragile woman in his arms, he stood stiffly and awkwardly. His heart thumped in his chest. He blamed himself for what she'd gone through since leaving the farm. Even though he knew the woman was as stubborn as a mule he felt as if she should have been able to do something to have saved her.

Lowering his head Daryl whispered in River's ear, "Never should'a letch'ya go on yer own."

There was a very raw and emotional tone to Daryl's voice. It was a tone that River wasn't used to hearing from him. Taken aback by the moment of openness River pulled away from him and studied his face with curiosity and sadness. Daryl wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

River frowned remembering that day back at the farm. It had been chaos. Everything had been falling apart around them. She'd been faced with a choice: leave Liam behind and go with Daryl on the bike or go on the run with Liam and hope to reunite with the others further on. There had been no time to think. Unable to abandon her dog, River had told Daryl to go on, to rescue Carol and let her go.

"Hey Dixon," River said, forcing Daryl to look at her. Her voice was firm but soft. "I told you I'd catch up, didn't I?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to turn away and frown. "Took ya long enough," he grumbled without meeting her eyes.

"Well it wasn't exactly easy to find you guys," River admitted. What she didn't say was that most of the time she was struggling so hard just to survive that she had no time to search for them.

"How exactly did you find us?" Rick asked. Never had he expected to see the woman alive again.

For the first time in seven months, River laughed. "I heard whispers, voices... I know it sounds crazy," she told them. "I thought I was going mad. I guess we were both funneled in the same direction by the herds."

"You've been running into them too then?" Glenn asked. "The herds."

River nodded. "It's strange," she said thoughtfully. "I never remember seeing such large groups of them before."

"I know!" Glenn agreed enthusiastically. "Now it seems less common to run into a lone Walker or a small group, right?"

The ice was broken. Everyone descended on River, battering her with questions. No one seemed to be aware of how they were coming between her and Daryl. While River answered their questions willingly her eyes kept finding their way back to her redneck hunter. He was always standing off to the side chewing uneasily at his thumbnail and keeping her in his sights. River wondered what exactly it was that was eating at him.

When it became apparent that there was no end to the questions in sight Lori cut in. "You must be exhausted," she said with a sympathetic smile.

River couldn't help but notice with amazement how big the woman had become. The baby must be due soon, she thought, realizing just how long she had been separated from the group.

"Why don't we get River and Liam some food and let them rest," Rick said to the others.

"I'll go make something up," Carol offered up quickly before hurrying away.

Rick had made a deal with the inmates that they had encountered in the prison. In turn for helping them to clear out a cell block of their own they had traded for half of the food stash from the cafeteria. There would certainly be something that Carol could make up for the returning member of their group and her canine companion.

"There's an empty cell down the end," Rick offered as he pointed to an unoccupied cell. "You can stay there."

The words caused River's heart to still. The blood drained from her face giving her an ashen appearance. There was a crushing weight on her chest leaving her feeling as if she might collapse in on herself. Very slowly River swallowed. There was no way she could stay in a cell. No way she could be trapped like that. Not again.

Memories that River tried hard to keep buried found their way to the surface.. After her parent's tragic death in a car accident she found herself thrown from the horror of losing them into a nightmare of another kind. A year of her life spent locked away in a dark room listening to the drone of the furnace on the other side of the wall. A year of her life spent trapped at the hands of the foster parents meant to care for her.

"I... I think I'd rather not," River stammered weakly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Rick insisted. "These cells are safe. We've cleared this cell block, there's no way..."

"I am not staying in a cell," River stated although there was still a faint quiver in her voice.

"Look River..."

"No," River said firmly, cutting Rick off before he had a chance to say anymore.

"Ain't too crowded up in the crow's nest," Daryl said with a shrug.

The comment, although directed at no one in particular, was meant for River. It was his way. It was the closest Daryl would come to saying that he would like her to stay with him the way she used to back at the farm. If he didn't really offer, then there was no real fear of being rejected.

"It's always like pulling fucking teeth with you, isn't it?" River griped. "You couldn't just say:  _hey River, you can stay with me_?" Although her smile, as she glanced up to the little room overlooking the cell block and then back to Daryl, said she was just teasing.

"Ungrateful pain in the ass," Daryl muttered.

"Mannerless, redneck jerk," River shot back with a grin.

A little snort escaped Daryl's lips. His mouth was curling up into a smirk. Damn he'd missed her.

 


	4. Questions and Uncertainty

 

The crow's nest was not an overly large room. Once a control and observation station for the guards it was now no different than any other part of the priso - run down, dirty, and stained with blood. There were no prisoners to watch over and no guards to man the post. There was only the living and the dead.

There was only Daryl Dixon, overlooking the cell block and his ratty mattress and pile of clothes scattered about the floor. Although River could sense that he had chosen the perch, and that he felt some sort of sympathy for her resistance to living in the cages below, she couldn't know the depths of his own fear. There was always that mask he wore. The world was ending and Daryl Dixon would always be the tough guy.

River's eyes scanned the little room that she would be calling home. On the floor lay a single mattress. No doubt it had been dragged up from one of the cells below. A crumpled blanket lay heaped on top of it. The one pillow was discarded next to the bed on the floor.

There was one corner of the room that was kept neat and tidy. Daryl's shotgun and crossbow leaned firmly against the wall. Even here amongst all the grime and grit it practically sparkled. A smile crept to River's lips as she remembered how lovingly the man had cared for that piece of machinery. It was his prized possession. River knew it meant more to him than it's weight in gold. It was his livelihood, his way of life, long before the Walkers. Now in their post apocalyptic hell it was his also his protection from both the living and the dead.

There were some consoles, a chair, and safety glass windows overlooking every angle of the cell block so that guards could have monitored for possible disturbances or riots among the prisoners. A smear of blood and grey matter stuck stubbornly to one of the window panes. She assumed it belonged to the last guard posted here. The thought she found bothered her little. The man had made his choice. Lacking the will to carry on, to survive, he had given up.  _Opted out._

So quiet were Daryl's footsteps as he made his way up to the perch that River never heard him coming. Over one shoulder she had slung her pack, and in her right hand her rifle hung limply at her side. He stood behind her watching her silently as she examined the room. Her eyes lingered on the mattress that sprawled across the middle of the room. It had been seven months. Daryl reprimanded himself for being so foolish. Of course she wouldn't just waltz back into his bed, not after what she'd been through because of him. He never should have let her go.

"I'll git T-dog help me drag up another mattress from one of 'em cells," Daryl croaked out. His throat felt parched although not for any lack of water.

At the sudden sound of Daryl's voice behind her River jumped. Her knuckles whitened as she reflexively clutched her rifle tighter. Out in the woods, being snuck up on like that would likely have meant death, or at least something very near it. River lifted her head slowly and turned around. "Oh," was all that she managed to say. Of course it had been seven months. What was she thinking?

The surprise in River's voice didn't slip by the keen hunter. "I mean, if ya want me to," Daryl added hastily, his eyes averted to the ground. There was a heat rushing into his cheeks and he hoped that River couldn't see him blushing.

"Since when does Daryl Dixon do anything other than what he wants?" River teased. Seeing the pained expression and uncertainty on his face she quickly assured him, "This'll be fine. No need to drag another mattress up."

"Prob'ly wouldn't fit anyhow," Daryl muttered, his eyes still on the floor.

River laughed. "Probably not." There really wasn't a whole lot of space up there. "Thought you said it wasn't too crowded?"

Daryl snorted. "You complainin'?" he asked. "Always a nice cell down there for ya."

"Who said I was complaining?" River said with a grin. Though there was a dull tiredness in her eyes that didn't match the expression on her face.

Daryl let out a satisfied huff. "Ya can put yer stuff o'er there," he told her as he nodded to one side of the little room.

An awkward silence fell between River and Daryl. It had been a long time since they had seen each other. A very long time. Neither of them really knew what to expect now that they had found each other. Neither of them knew what the seven months they had spent apart and trying to survive meant for them. Hell neither of them had really known what exactly what they were before. Just as things had started to come together between them everything had fallen apart around them. A horde of Walkers had attacked Hershel's farm. People had died. Those that were left went on the run.

Making her way slowly across the room, River dropped her pack and leaned her rifle against the wall. The .308 calibre Remington 700 Featherlight was a well balanced rifle for her small size, yet it had the power to take down any big game... And most recently the walking dead. The only problem was that combination of a larger calibre and a lighter rifle meant it kicked pretty hard. Although that had never bothered River much.

Out of her pocket River emptied the remaining two rounds she had for the rifle. They were the same two rounds that she had been packing around for the last seven months. The same two rounds she had carried since the attack on the farm. With care she placed them on the window sill.

Daryl was watching River out of the corner of his eye. "That all ya got left?" he asked gruffly.

River nodded slowly. "I've been hanging on to them," she admitted. "One for Liam and one for me."

The woman had always been such a fighter. When everyone else had clung helplessly to the past and mourned the idea of life as it had once been, River had simply adapted and carried on without so much as blinking at the changes. The thought that she would be planning to kill her dog and then herself made Daryl's stomach churn. His face contorted in disgust.

"That's messed up," Daryl told her.

"Eh?" River's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I remember you saying once that that is what you'd want if you were bit," she reminded him. "Back when we found out about Jim and you tried to go at him with a pick axe."

Of course River hadn't just meant to give up. Daryl peered at her out of the corner of his eye and grunted. Although he would not make direct eye contact with her. He didn't want her to know what he'd been thinking.

However, Daryl's lack of eye contact only reinforced River's ability to comprehend his thoughts. "You thought I meant in case I just felt like offing myself?" she asked incredulously.

"The hell was I supposed to think?" Daryl growled suddenly facing her full on. There was a mix of anger and defensiveness in his tone. His aggressive stance didn't throw River off. The woman simply ignored it and carried on.

"I thought I wanted to die once," River admitted in a surprisingly casual tone. Daryl's fists clenched at his sides.

Shrugging off her eclectic mishmash of furs River hung them over the back of the one chair in the room. The one behind which some poor soul had splattered their own brains across the safety glass window. Daryl frowned. Now River was clad in just her ratty old jeans and Dane's too-big, once-white t-shirt that read:  _When I'm Not Out Trapping Beaver, I'm Stalking Cougar._  The one with the BC Trappers Association logo on the front. Without the bulky furs River looked even more fragile. The woman was just skin and bones.

Sitting down on the corner of Daryl's mattress River wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn't as warm inside the prison as she'd expected. Of course, she was never warm anymore. What she wouldn't give to take down a black bear and deep fry it's delicious meat in the bear's own fat. What she wouldn't give to put back on some of the weight she'd lost and reclaim that insulating lair of fat that had helped protect her from the cold up home in Fort Nelson.

Daryl's frown deepened but still he said nothing.

"A long time ago... Before the Walkers," River continued as she tried to rub some warmth into her arms.

"Fuckin' stupid if ya ask me," Daryl muttered with all his usual tact.

"You're such an ass," River observed with a wry smile. Daryl's face twitched at her words. "Good thing I wasn't asking you."

"What changed yer mind?" Daryl asked gruffly.

With the same indifferent casualness River shrugged. "It turned out I was wrong. I didn't so much change my mind as eventually realize that wasn't what I really wanted."  
With his head cocked ever so slightly to the side Daryl listened but said nothing.

The fact that River had some dark secrets in her past wasn't news to the watchful and observant man. Over the months they'd spent with each other Daryl had witnessed little clues. The woman was claustrophobic, terrified of small spaces or being trapped in a building. How had her best friend Dane put it?  _Pathologically obsessed with her freedom_.

Daryl had heard her muttering in her sleep on occasion. It had gotten worse after she'd been taken prisoner by the group at the IKEA store. But even before then he'd heard River uttering incomprehensible but recognizably distressed nonsense in the middle of the night. Of course, the details of her past remained a mystery to him.

"Then I met Dane and he helped me with that... Well maybe to say I met him is misleading. We went to school together but we never really talked or anything. He was just that kid from my class that lived down the road," River continued. It seemed surreal to be back with the group and it was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't covered in fur.

At the mention of Dane's name Daryl swallowed reflexively. When River had first run into him and Merle she'd been with two young men. They were brothers, Dane and JJ. For the longest time he'd though there was something between her and the older brother. Hell, everyone had thought the same thing.

"Up until then I had just been surviving. I did what came natural. Dane saved me. He made me realize that life doesn't end just because bad shit happens, and he was right." A lot of bad shit had happened. Some would call that an understatement. Yet life kept on keeping on.

* * *

The next few days were quiet at the prison. It was a welcome change to the months everyone had spent on the run. Even the dingy, bloodstained walls started to feel like home. The bars and fences gave everyone a sense of security. This was somewhere they could bunker down and stay out for a while. And with Lori's baby on the way, they really needed somewhere to settle down.

The men slowly cleared out more Walkers. It was a slow process. There were so many of them. Every new corridor, every new room they pushed further through the prison to they encountered more of the reanimated dead. Sometimes it seemed like they would never end, but bit by bit with Rick's leadership and Daryl's muscle they were gaining ground.

Back in cell block-C Carol, Maggie and Beth tended to Hershel. When he had regained consciousness after the brutal amputation of his leg it had been a huge weight off of everyone's shoulders. While things were looking promising for the old man, there was still much to be done. The wound needed to constantly be kept clean with fresh dressings. The risk of infection was too high and antibiotics were few and far between.

The scarcity of medicine was starting to become a big problem for the group of survivors. Hershel was not the only one in need. River had a badly injured leg that wasn't healing on its own. carol had helped clean it up but it had been too long. Between lack of medication, poor nutrition, and never having had a moment to rest her body simply could not fight the infection and mend properly. Then there was Lori. Carl had been born by C-section and it was likely that the new baby would have to come the same way. If that happened, if they were forced to operate then the new mother would be at risk of complications too.

While the men cleared Walkers from the prison, and the women cared for Hershel, Carl kept watch and River slept. Had the young woman spent anytime down from the crow's nest she would have been amazed at how much the kid had grown up since the farm. When last she'd seen him he'd been very much a child. Now he was more like a young man with a grown ups responsibilities. The world had changed.

River, however, didn't come down from the perch. Once she had cleaned herself up to some extent, she had curled up on the worn mattress and slept. Day after day she stayed in bed. Exhausted and at her wits end it was all she could do. Seven months on the run alone had taken its toll. One good night's sleep wasn't going to cut it.

It wasn't just River that had collapsed in exhaustion at the first hint of safety. Liam was content to curl himself at her feet and keep his head down too. The poor dog had no more left in him than his master.

The first day no one had thought anything of River's absence around the prison. Everyone had simply let her be. The consensus was that she would come down when she was ready. However as the days passed some people started to get twitchy. A sense of unease started to grow. Just how much had the months alone in the woods changed the bouncy young woman they'd previously known?

"It ain't right!" T-Dog complained. "You'd think she'd be happy to be back. But all that crazy chick has done since she got here is hide up in that little room."

"Give her time," Rick said. His voice was firm and reassuring.

Lori shifted her weight trying find a comfortable position. "She looked so tired when Carol and Glenn brought her in," she commented.

Rick glanced at his wife. His eyes stared right through her. "I don't doubt it," he agreed, although his tone was cool. Returning his attention to the rest of the group Rick reminded them, "We all know how hard it was for us and we had each other."

"We were fortunate for that," Lori said appreciatively as she tried desperately to earn points with her husband. Rick didn't even acknowledge that he heard her.

There was a very low and suggestive tone to T-Dog's voice when he spoke again. "Do you think she blames us for leaving without her?" he asked. "Seven months man, that's a lot of time to sit and stew."

Rick's eyes narrowed and he studied the other man intently. "What exactly are you trying to say T?"

Leaning back T-Dog crossed his thick arms over his chest. "I gotta spell it out for you man? I'm saying has it occurred to any of you that the River that we left back at the farm may not be the same woman that came back to us." He made an exasperated gesture to the perch above them. "I mean doesn't it seem strange to anyone else that she doesn't even come down to talk to us?"

Carol stepped forward. "You think she might be dangerous?" she asked. Her voice was voice barely above a whisper. With the turn their conversation had taken there was definitely some concern that either River or Daryl might overhear.

"That's ridiculous!" Glenn protested. "Guys, this is River we're talking about." The woman had been with them through thick and thin and fought along side them without hesitation.

Although the police force he'd once belonged to was no more, Rick still commanded an air of authority. When he held his hand up to quiet Glenn and the others, the speculative murmurs stopped and all eyes turned to him.

"Hold on a minute here, I think we may be jumping the gun on this one," Rick told them trying to calm their fears and restore order. "No one is denying that River had a rough time over the past seven months. But so have we all. And look at us - we're not turning on each other. We stick together, that's what we do."

The man had a way with inspirational speeches, but T-Dog wasn't buying it. "In case you're forgetting, we also didn't just leave each other to die," he reminded Rick.

"You know that's not what happened!" Rick replied firmly.

"You sure about that? She might not see it that way."

Glenn shook his head back and forth as he mulled over T-Dog's words. "Come on T... River knows we never would have just abandoned her like that."

"We did everything we could," Rick agreed.

T-Dog shrugged. "Just saying, man."

Rick sighed. "We'll keep an eye on her," he said reluctantly. In his mind he knew he had to talk to her and find out just what was going on. If T-Dog was right they could be in trouble.

* * *

No one voiced their concerns to Daryl. The redneck had a temper and he was too close to River for his judgement not to be clouded, they reasoned. Of course, just because no one said anything to him didn't mean that Daryl didn't notice the hesitant glances and hushed voices. Shortly after the others' debate is when he started to notice the eyes following him everywhere he went, especially whenever he went upstairs to check on River.

"Those assholes keep starin' at me every time I come up here like I'm sum kinda leper an they's 'fraid a catchin' the plague or sum shit," Daryl muttered to River as he walked in the door.

At the sound of Daryl's voice, River rolled over onto her stomach and stared up at him. Her eyes were sad and tired.

"Here," Daryl muttered as he held out one of the cafeteria trays. "Brought ya some food. Brought some fer the mutt too."

River covered Liam's ears with her hands and gasped in mock indignation. "Watch your language, Dixon. This dog is no mutt," she said.

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl sneered. "He's some fucking prodigal son popped out of AKC's Little-Miss-Gunshy-Bitch-That-Shit's-In-The-Truck and sired by none other than MBO's Trees-Every-Possum-In-The-County. Ain't that right?"

River glared at Daryl and gave him the finger. The actions were so familiar, yet they lacked the certain spark that Daryl was used to seeing in her. The flame in her eyes had been reduced to no more than a smoldering ember.

Uncovering the Chesapeake's ears she cooed at the dog, "Don't you listen to him. That redneck wouldn't know a good dog if it bit him on the ass..." He could mock Liam's bloodline's all he wanted. It wouldn't change the fact that he was a great dog. "And don't go getting any ideas," she added quietly.

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Talkin' to the animals now are ya? Think ya spent too long in the bush by yerself." Though he teased her he sat down on the other end of the mattress with his own food where he could steal glances at her but still had some distance. Daryl, unlike the others didn't worry that River was unstable... Only that she was damaged and that somehow he was at fault for letting her go.

River stuck out her tongue and ruffled Liam's brown fur affectionately. The movements, although playful and happy on the outside, carried a weight with them. "At least I had someone who wasn't a jerk to talk to."

"Ya know, I had a dog once. Mean old German Shepherd cross. Hated everyone, 'cept fer me," Daryl told her. The tidbit of information about his life before the Walkers surprising River. The man never talked about himself. "Best friend I ever had till my ol' man killed him."

River had been listening intently. Her face contorted in horror at his comment. "He what?"

Daryl grimaced uncomfortably at the memory. He'd only brought up his dog to try and relate to River. This was why he never talked about his old life. That look she gave him. That look he always got from other people who didn't grow up in the Dixon household.

"Said I cared more 'bout that dumb mutt than I did him, my own flesh an' blood. Told me he was gonn' teach me a lesson bout what's really important."

"That's horrible," River said. There was still shocked disbelief on her face, although a tear was brimming in her eye as she imagined the pain she would have felt losing Liam the same way, the pain Daryl must have felt. "I'm sorry..."

Daryl cut her off as he stood abruptly. "He was drunk," he explained without looking at River as he made his way to the door. Not that he'd ever felt a lot of love for his dad, but family was family and Daryl felt the sickening need to excuse his father's actions.

* * *

When Daryl returned to the main floor of the cell block he once again found all eyes on him. Except this time he was in no mood for it. "Got a fuckin' staring problem?" he hissed and watched everyone shrink away.

Everyone except for Carol. Nervously wringing her hands she walked up to him. "How's River?" The question was innocent enough but Daryl sensed a deeper underlying question.

Daryl shrugged noncommittally. Even if he'd wanted to answer that question he wouldn't have known how.

Carol pushed and took another tentative step towards Daryl. "Does she seem alright to you?"

"Christ woman!" Daryl spat in annoyance. "The hell should I know?"

"I think what she means to ask," Rick clarified, "is does she seem different to you?"

"Fuck! I don't know," Daryl mumbled. He fidgeted uncomfortably, his eyes anywhere else but meeting those of his companions. "Seems tired," he offered. It was the same observation that Lori had made earlier.

"Anything else?" T-Dog pressed. He was convinced that River's refusal to come down was a sure sign that the woods had left her unstable.

"Jesus Christ!" Daryl shouted in exasperation. The sudden booming of his voice attracting the attention of everyone in the prison, not just those involved in the little interrogation. Carl, Hershel, Beth, Maggie... They all turned to stare. "The fuck has gotten into ya people?" He eyed them all suspiciously before storming off with his crossbow slung over his shoulder. "Got more important shit to be doin' than playing twenty questions with y'all."


	5. When Things Start Looking Up

 

The dusty border of the prison yard stretched out beneath River's feet. So many pairs of feet had trodden the same dirt ground. So many eyes had stared longingly past the high fence out into the woods, dreaming of escape. Now when the eyes of the prison's occupants looked past the perimeter with fear and trepidation. Most of them didn't care to think of a day they'd ever long to leave their safe haven. Most of them couldn't imagine ever wanting to be on the outside ever again.

There was a line trailing in the dirt behind arrived where River had been dragging her toes. Absently she kicked at a stone. "I can leave anytime I want," she told herself. "I'm only in here because I want to be."

Liam raised his head inquisitively, his broad skull looking disproportionate upon his scrawny neck. When he was satisfied that his master was just muttering to himself he resumed sniffing at the unfamiliar smells of the prison yard.

Slinking along the fence line River continued to stare out at the woods. Right now, with the dead roaming about and still weak from months of starvation it was the last place she wanted to be. The problem was that she wasn't so sure she wanted to be inside the prison either. She'd spent too long trapped and locked away, and she felt that same fear tightening in her chest.

"I'm choosing to be here," River repeated, trying to convince herself.

A small crowd had gathered in the prison yard. Inside the cell block it was dark and dingy. It was easy to go a little stir crazy cooped up in there. The sun did everyone a lot of good. As did stretching their legs and moving about.

"You see what I mean?" T-Dog muttered as he pointed to the frail figure slinking along next to the fence across the yard.

River's shoulders were hunched over. The young woman barely resembled the creature she'd once been. All her curves, her buoyant vitality, it was all gone, drained from the months she spent on her own. The more T-Dog thought about it the more he convinced himself that she blamed them for abandoning her.

T-Dog's accusation drew Carol's attention to their returning companion. The older woman wrung her hands and fretted as she watched River moving slowly one step at a time. It was hard for her to separate her own guilt from her suspicions. T-Dog didn't make it any easier.

The problem that was brewing amongst the group was painfully obvious to Rick. He let his attention drift between the apprehensive crowd that had gathered in the yard and the lone returning member wandering about in her own world on the fringe. Determined to keep his group from falling apart or turning on each other the former deputy started toward River with set determination.

"Hi River," Rick greeted her warmly as he approached.

The softly spoken words were just as much to let the young woman know he was there so as not to startle her. Rick had noticed how easily River startled now. The smallest things made her jump. No doubt having no one but Liam to watch her back all winter had a lot to do with that.

Slowly River lifted her head and gazed into Rick's eyes. Though she tried to force a smile onto her face, her own green eyes were sunken and dull. They didn't sparkle r reflect the expression she was trying to form.

"Rick," River nodded returning the greeting before dropping her attention back to Liam and stroking his lackluster, wavy, brown fur.

"Good to see you out," Rick told her. It was the truth. It was good to see her leaving the confines of the crows nest. Even if she still wasn't interacting much with anyone, it was a start.

Again River slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "I think I'd go mad cooped up in that little room any longer," she admitted.

Some among their group thought she already had gone mad. Of course, Rick didn't tell her this. Instead he tried to keep the conversation going in a non threatening manner. It wasn't that easy.

"So umm...," Rick twisted the deputy's hat uncomfortably on top of his head as he tried to think of a way to broach the subject that seemed to be on everyone's mind.

"Oh don't you start!" River teased and for a moment Rick saw a glimpse of her former playfulness. "I get enough of that with Daryl."

"None of us wanted to leave without you, you know," Rick said with calculated slowness.  
River shrugged nonchalantly. "I know," she replied as if it were nothing.

"And Daryl..." Rick paused seeing the way River's eyes snapped to attention at the mention of his name. "Daryl, well he never gave up looking for you. Never."

A genuine smile crept onto River's face. "I know."

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Do you really?"

With a hint of a laugh River nodded again. There was no way that she could explain how she knew, but she did. Part of her had never given up hope during those long bleak months. Part of her had known, somehow.

"So we're..." Rick couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, but he peered up from under the rim of his hat with one squinted eye that said it all.

River wasn't a stupid girl. She wasn't blind either. Years in the woods, silently stalking prey so that she might not starve had taught her to be observant of her surroundings. Although she had said nothing, she could see how the others stared at her. How expectantly the others were watching her conversation with Rick. She could see their nervous ticks as they waited for the deputy's verdict.

"We're good, Rick," River told him, laying a reassuring hand on his arm. "It was my choice to leave with Liam. Remember that."

Across the yard Lori swallowed reflexively. It wasn't out of jealousy. River's heart belonged to Daryl and she knew that there would never be anything between Rick and the girl. It was deeper than that. It was an unfathomable pain watching such a casual gesture and knowing that it was something she couldn't do. That man standing there was her husband he wouldn't even talk to her, let alone let her touch him. That tore Lori apart.

It was Rick's turn to nod as he gave a little sigh of relief. He hadn't bought into T-Dog's crazy theory, but it was still good to hear it from her own lips. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Rick. We're good, really."

"Okay then," Rick took a deep breath and looked out past the prison fence into the distance. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me too," River said quietly. "Me too."

Rick turned with a renewed sense of ease and started back towards the others. As he made his way across the prison yard he looked up to find a surprising sight.

"Hershel!" Rick called out, a wide smile across his face.

With Beth on one side, and Carl in the lead the old man took one shaky step after another on his crutches. No one had expected him to be up and about so soon after the amputation. Heck, no one had expected him to survive.

Glenn and Maggie exchanged joyous smiles at the sight of her father recovered enough to be moving around. It had been so grim, so touch and go, that even Maggie had given up hope. She had been prepared to lose him. But now, seeing him getting better her heart swelled with an immense thankfulness, and pride in his strength and courage. That man was her father, and she loved him.

That moment, when everything seemed to be coming together, when everything seemed to be working out right for once, didn't last. A blood-curdling scream shattered the delicate peace and drew everyone's attention from their walking miracle to something else that walked. Something that shouldn't.

"Walkers!" Glenn shouted in alarm.

"How the hell did they get in here?" Rick asked, dumbfounded. The perimeter was secure. He'd checked it personally at least a hundred times.

"Nevermind that," Daryl growled as he drew his weapon and scanned quickly for River. "Best start thinking 'bout what the hell we gonna do 'bout it."

They were outnumbered - dangerously outnumbered and unprepared. No one had expected to be attacked within the safety of their prison walls.


	6. Sabotage!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics = flashbacks

After many long and difficult months Rick's group of survivors had found sanctuary in an abandoned prison overrun by the dead. There they had found other survivors - inmates that had been holed up in the cafeteria all this time. Someone also found them. Out of the woods had stumbled one of the women who had been missing since Hershel's farm. River and her faithful dog Liam.

The feisty Canadian trapper was far from the healthy, bouncy woman they had all remembered. Her curves had been replaced by sharp, protruding bones; her eyes were dull and sunken; all of her youthful energy and enthusiasm had been sapped by the harsh and unforgiving winter spent running from the dead on her own.

In fact the woman had seemed so far removed from her former self that speculation had circulated that River may be harboring animosity toward the rest of them for abandoning her. With the atmosphere inside the prison deteriorating rapidly as gossip spread about River's state of mind, Rick's hand had been forced. Although after speaking with the person who was the topic of everyone's unease he felt reassured. The woman was still their River.

Just as the sense of ease offered by the security had been returning, just as spirits were lifting at the sight of Hershel taking his first step, it had all been shattered by the sound of a blood-curdling scream. The noise rang through the prison yard, and every nerve in River's body snapped to attention. Every muscle in her tiny, frail body became taut, ready to spring into action. Her green eyes, still keen despite their tired appearance, scanned the ground for the source of the disturbance.

One didn't need the sharp eyes of a hunter to spot what was wrong. It damn near impossible to miss. There were Walkers. Everywhere. There had to be at least a dozen of them. No one knew how, but they were inside the prison walls. Their sanctuary, their safe haven, had been breached.

How that could be possible was a mystery that would have to wait. At the moment the rag-tag group of survivors had far more pressing matters to attend to. Such as not dying, for example. Such as not getting bitten and turning into one of the disgusting, flesh-eating corpses themselves. That would be a good place to start.

"River!" Daryl's voice called from across the prison yard. "River!" his voice snapped again finally catching her attention.

River glanced up, looking almost confused by the sound of his voice. The expression on her face, though she had been back with the group, was of someone who hadn't seen people in a long, long time. Facing the Walkers, in her mind she had returned to the time she was on her own with no one but Liam to watch her back. The sound of a low growl or a bark was all she expected to hear. Certainly not the low deep, rough voice of her redneck man.

The young woman was separated from the rest of the group. She stood there, one hand grasping her hunting knife, the other resting reassuringly on Liam's collar. Her Remington 700 sat uselessly back inside the prison. It didn't matter; with only two rounds remaining River had learned to do without it. Still the distance across the prison yard had never looked so long. Nor had any lone Walker looked as threatening as the one standing between her and the others now.

"Don't even think about it," River called back to Daryl. "This one's mine."

Daryl remembered back to the days when he had first met River. That woman was trouble from the start, and he knew it. She was cocky and fearless and never knew when to back down.

"Yers now is it?" Daryl smirked. River had gotten so mad back at the camp outside of Atlanta when he had stolen her kill. He always seemed to be doing that and he had to admit, he kinda enjoyed the reaction he got from her. She was cute when she was angry, sexy when she had that fire in her eyes.

River glared back at him, but Daryl could see she was smiling. "Damn right!" she asserted with a hint of her former playfulness.

But Daryl didn't get the chance to swoop in and steal this Walker from her. The imminent danger posed by the Walkers on their own side of the yard drew his attention back to the group. Without a moment to spare Daryl stabbed his knife through the skull of a walker before it could sink its teeth into him.

They just kept on coming. More and more Walkers seemed to be pouring into the prison yard with every second that passed. It didn't make any sense. The integrity of the fences had been checked and monitored and the areas of the prison that the men hadn't cleared were still locked up tight. The prison was secure. There was no way that Walkers could get in. Yet there they were.

"Liam, you wait here," River whispered.

There was only one Walker, one single rotting corpse, between River and the rest of the group. This should be easy, she thought, as she crept towards it with her knife drawn. Behind her Liam let out a little whimper. The dog would rather run than stand and fight the dead. River didn't look back, but she could imagine him with one of his big paws covering his eyes afraid to look. In reality, the dog's amber eyes were glued fearfully on his master.

Within striking distance of the Walker, River paused. Her feet carried her gracefully as she danced around it looking for an opportunity to sink the metal blade into it's diseased flesh. But it had to be a head shot and the riot helmet the creature wore perplexed the young woman who had yet to encounter such a thing.

Daryl glanced back with every chance he got. Presently he was occupied, both his hands gripped tightly to a Walker that he was pulling off of Glenn, but he was keeping tabs on River while he fought. He could see the look of confusion on her face. They had all felt it when they first encountered the Walkers in riot gear inside the prison fences.

"Lift the helmet!" Daryl shouted at her as he struggled against the strength of the Walker he was holding. If he let go, it would take a chunk out of Glenn.

River moved forward, tentatively maneuvering her knife, then stepped back. The Walker pursued her every move, keeping her on her toes, constantly shifting and dancing around it to avoid getting bit. It was no good.

"Ya deaf? Lift the damn helmet and shove that knife in the fucker's skull," Daryl growled.  
River shouldn't be over there facing it on her own, he scolded himself. He should never have let her fight in on her own. Not that he had had a choice, but that didn't stop him blaming himself.

The Walker in the riot gear reached out it's claw like hand toward its next meal. River scrunched up her face in disgust. Getting close enough to pull that thing's helmet off was closer than she cared to get. Options were running out. To hell with that, options had run out. The creature was advancing on her and Liam and she had to do something, and she wasn't about to run away.

Grabbing ahold of the riot helmet River hauled with all her might. It didn't budge. River struggled to remove the helmet at the same time she was dodging the Walker's decaying arms as they swung wildly trying to grasp at her warm, tasty flesh.

With one lucky swing the Walker's hand connected with River's arm and gripped tightly. Underneath the helmet the monster's teeth chomped faster in anticipation of a fresh meal. Desperately River tried to wrench her arm free. This was life and death and and the helmet, River couldn't even free herself from the creature's grip. Son of a bitch. The thing was dead. How hard could it be?

It should have been such an easy kill. It should have been such a simple struggled, but River was completely and utterly drained. Her strength had yet to return and she could feel her body fading. All the hardship she had endured to find the group again, to find Daryl again, and now she was going to die because she couldn't kill a single pathetic corpse.

How easy it would be to close her eyes and let it happen, but that wasn't River. She would fight to the bitter end, whether she knew she was bound to lose or not. At the same time she could feel her muscles failing her River also felt the Walker's grip relax and watched in surprise as it's body crumpled to the ground.

Bringing her eyes up from the ground to where the Walker had been standing River found that instead of staring at the reanimated dead she was staring at Daryl Dixon's scowl.

"I had it, you know," River panted. Knowing nothing was further from the truth she grinned up at him.

"Like hell ya did."

River laughed and Daryl's scowl slowly transformed into a smirk.

Scanning the prison yard River found that the fighting had ceased. No one was left fighting and everything seemed still. All of the Walkers lay dead on the blood-soaked ground. River swallowed, the realization hitting her hard. While she had struggled, and failed, with a single Walker, the rest of the group had taken out the entire invading force in the prison yard. She had a long awhile to go before she was back to her former self.

"Don't you even say it," River warned.

"Someone had to save yer scrawny Canuck ass."

What could River honestly say? It was the truth. The winter she and Liam had spent on their own had sapped her and she had no energy left to give. Exhausted, River let herself sink to the dusty ground.

The smirk quickly faded from Daryl's face. "Ya bit?"

River shook her head. "No."

"Scratched?"

"I don't think so..." River stammered as she looked over the lengths of her thin arms.

The others stared, once again, this time wondering not about her sanity but if she would be turning into one of the risen dread. The scowl etched deeply on Daryl's face made them strain their ears to hear what words were being exchanged between the two hunters.

Rick walked over slowly and stood next to Daryl. Once again it was up to him to stand between River and the others. His presence was reassuring to River who had come to trust and respect the man, a far cry from her opinion of them when they had first met back at the quarry outside of Atlanta.

"She alright?" Rick asked, his brow furrowed with concern. Daryl nodded but said nothing.

"She's fine and she's sitting right here," River grumbled. The sass in her voice earned her a small smile from Rick. It also earned her a slobbery kiss from her four legged friend. Every step she took towards the woman he remembered reassured him.

"Good. We can't afford to lose any more good people." Rick stated. Although he was speaking the truth his smile was soft and warm when it came to River. "Now, let's get you on your feet," he said as he extended a hand down towards her.

* * *

_Daryl's face twitched as he pictured River laying on the ground all covered in mud holding her hand up towards him. They had still been at the quarry camp outside of Atlanta and he had just saved her ass from a Walker when she'd forgotten to take the safety off her rifle._

_"Help me up," River had demanded, holding out her hand much the way Rick was now._

_"Git yerself up." Daryl had turned to walk away. Somehow River had known even then that he wouldn't leave her in harm's way._

_"It's your fault I'm down here in the first place!" River had shouted. with a melodramatic huff she has flopped on her back in the mud. Lacing her fingers together behind her head, she had let out an exaggerated sigh. "Guess I'll just stay here and get eaten by a Walker..." she'd threatened._

_Daryl hadn't believed what he was hearing. "Ya gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me! Ya fuckin' five or sumthin'?"_

_"Help me up."_

_"Stop messing 'round an' git up!" Daryl had ordered angrily, but the girl was as stubborn as a damn mule. "Fer fucks sake, yer a pain in th' ass," Daryl had growled as he had reached down to haul her up._

_"Ya, I know," River had grinned as she had reached down to grab her rifle from the mud. Daryl hadn't seen the red creep up into her face as she had realized her mistake._

_"Next time I'ma jus' leave ya t' the Walkers," Daryl had grumbled. Even then he hadn't meant it. "C'mon le's get ya back t' camp so's I can git back t' huntin'."_

_"Hey Dixon..."_

_"Wha'?"_

_"Thanks for saving me."_

That was the first time Daryl had saved her ass and where it had all began. Right from the start he'd known River was trouble then and he had done everything in his power to stay clear of her. He'd never wanted to want her. Never dreamt of loving her. Never dreamt she'd love him back.

* * *

Once Rick had River on her feet he guided her into Daryl's arms. Daryl took her in, although he was still somewhat stiff and awkward. For River it didn't matter. As soon as she felt his arm wrap around her shoulder she collapsed into his chest and closed her eyes breathing in the scent of her man that told her she was safe.

Finally River pulled herself away and turned back to Rick. "I don't think the living can afford to lose any more people, period," she sighed. "Or this world will belong to the dead."

"It already does," Rick replied glumly. "And I can think of at least one more living this world could do without."

Daryl squinted as he glanced over sideways at Rick. "Ya talkin' bout..."

"Someone cut those chains and let the Walkers in," Rick stated, the fury starting to bubble over in his usually calm voice.

"An' it wasn't no accident," Daryl drawled, his own anger seething through his southern accent.

The perimeter fence had been sabotaged. Unwilling to believe that one of their own could have done such a thing left only the inmates as suspect. If that was the case Axel and Oscar wouldn't be getting the one week supply of food and sent on their was as had been discussed amongst the others. They'd be getting something else entirely.

"You keep her safe," Rick told Daryl. "I'm going to have a little chat with Axel and Oscar." Daryl nodded in silent understanding. Rick could handle two caged inmates.

The only problem was two caged inmates couldn't set off the prison siren. As if the incursion of the living dead hadn't been enough, without warning the prison alarm started sounding. It was a loud, piercing sound. Every Walker for miles was bound to hear it. There was more foul play going on here than just a cut chain, and that meant it wasn't just Axle and Oscar. Rick was going to need some back up.

River saw Daryl's face contort as he quickly put the pieces together. "Just go," she told him. "Don't worry about me."

Daryl's scowl deepened. "Don'tcha 'member what happened last time ya told me ta go? I ain't leavin' ya."

A flame flickered behind River's green eyes as she stared Daryl down. "Alright then," she grinned defiantly. "If you're not leaving me, let's go."

Daryl glared at her. River hadn't been able to handle a lone Walker, and those dead bastards were dumb as fuck. What they were up against now could be far more dangerous.

"Rick needs you," River insisted as she reached down and scratched Liam behind the ear. After thei ordeal with the Walkers the dog was glued to her leg.

The words made Daryl squirm. When they'd first met he would have scoffed, saying ain't no one need him. But the truth was the group did need him, and he needed them too.

"Ya watch yer ass," Daryl growled. He meant it. "Don' wanna come back, find ya was Walker chow."

"Come on now," River grinned at him. "You know me better than that."

Daryl had known her better than that, but now he wasn't sure. River was the toughest girl he knew. That woman could survive damn near anything. Hell, the end of the world hadn't so much as phased her when they'd first met. She'd fight, for sure, but what he didn't know was if she'd win. One thing, however, was certain. River was as stubborn as a mule, and if he didn't go help Rick she'd make good on her promise to come along.


End file.
